Better Off Dead (6 page)

“So about this mission to the blacksmith’s, are we going to be gone long?” I asked after realizing I hadn’t packed an overnight bag and furthermore, had nothing to pack. “I don’t have any clothes if it’s going to be more than one day.”

Bill nodded as he backed out of the driveway, looking over his right shoulder before offering me an apologetic smile and looking over his left. “Skeletor took care of all that. There’s a bag packed for you in the trunk, which makes me guess that this little trip might be longer than a day.”

The bag in the back relieved me slightly, but it didn’t address the mysterious mission we were undertaking. “So what’s this about the blacksmith and my sword? Does Jason really expect me to battle demons?” I asked, my voice sinking at the last part.

“Yep, that’s what lives in the Underground City, so unless you want to become the sexiest dinner one of them little shits has ever eaten, you gotta learn how to defend yourself.”

“Are all angels like you?” I asked with a frown
, wondering how my Sunday school teacher could have gotten angels so very wrong.

“Hellz no!” he shot back. “I’m an O-riginal.”

Shaking my head, I decided to leave that conversation alone. “Have you ever done this sort of thing before?” Noting his confused expression, I continued. “I mean, have you ever retrieved a soul?”

He nodded, but it soon turned into head-shaking. “Well, not exactly, but I know lots of guides and I’ve had it explained to me pretty often, so I figured if they could do it, it couldn’t be that hard, ya know? Besides, I read most of the Cliff’s Notes of that Dante book, so it’s all good in ma hood.”

“You read most of the Cliff’s Notes of the
Inferno
?” I sounded … shocked.
The Cliff's Notes, for crying out loud?

He frowned. “Okay, okay, I
read like two chapters.”

“
You read two chapters?”

“
Sure did. Pretty good ones too. There were dudes chewing on the backs of the heads of some other dudes.” He paused for a second, narrowing his eyes. "I can't remember why, though. Maybe for giving it to the other dude’s wives.”

Care, kindness and understanding
…

I took a deep breath and sighed, wondering what I’d done in a past life to
merit this one. “So neither of us knows what we’re doing?” I asked in a shaky voice. If this wasn’t cause for a crisis, I didn’t know what was.

Bill shook his head. “Girl, readin
’ has never been my thing. An’ just look how far I’ve gotten without it! I’m a jen-you-wine, bone-if-eyed angel and it’s not like just anyone gets to wear that title.” Before I could respond, he scratched his wrist and I noticed a flashing green bracelet on his arm.

“What’s that?”

A blush passed over his pasty, dough-like skin and he suddenly seemed enthralled with the steering wheel. “Oh, that’s my monitor.”

“Which means?”

He shrugged. “If I do something I’m not supposed to ...”

“
Like?”

“
Like drink or get into a fight. The damn thing will go off and then I’ll have to sit through another five-hour lecture from Skeletor. Then again, I might even get demoted to a junior angel, which would be totally sucksational.”

I
had a mind to set it off so I could rid myself of my unwanted guide. “So going back to this retrieving thing, if you’ve never been a guide before, how in the heck do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

He reached inside his pocket and pulled out another piece of paper that looked like it had barely survived World War II. “I got all the four-one-one right here, honey mounds.” He held the paper closer to his eyes, glancing every now and then at the road. Great, I’d already died in one car accident and now it looked like number two was just around the corner.

“What’s that?” I demanded.

“Notes.”

I ripped the paper from between his nubby fingers. Glancing down at it, I read aloud:

“Bring coins for Sharon, the chick who’s going to take us across the River Sticks.” I dropped the paper into my lap and faced Bill
, a new sense of despondency erupting inside me. “You do realize the ferryman of the River Styx is exactly that, a man?” I started, remembering reading the
Inferno
from my English Lit class during my sophomore year at college. “And his name is Charon, not Sharon.”

“Sharon, Charon, chick or
fairy gay dude, whatevs. I'm not a homo-phobe but I do believe in gay buffering.”

“What buffering?”

“You know, like when I’m out with a dude friend and we go to the movies or something—it’s always good to leave an extra seat between us so we don’t look gay.”

I shook my head and returned to his notes. “Make sure nothing touches you.” I glanced up at him for his confirmation.

“I’m an angel, we aren’t supposed to get any of that Underground City shit on us.”

“Why
?”

He shrugged. “Angels aren’t even supposed to go into the Underground because if anything there touches us
…” But his words suddenly faded on his tongue.

“Yes?”

He shrugged and I realized he had no idea what he was talking about. “I don’t know what would happen, but it's not like it’d be good, you know? It’d probably be like that witch chick who melts.” He glanced over at me and smiled. “I’m meeelltinng!”

I sighed
, not even slightly entertained by his less than convincing rendition of the Wicked Witch of the West. “So if angels aren’t supposed to go to the Underground City, why are we?”

“’Cause you were a dumbass and didn’t read the fine print before you decided to become a supermodel and I’m on probation. It means I've gotta do whatever Skeletor-Horn tells me to, which b
asically means we're both SOL.”

I decided to ignore the part about me being a dumbass and the fine print Jason had neglected to include during my orientation. Instead, I turned to the view outside my window. It was a crisp, beautifully clear day with a cornflower-blue sky peppered by wistful clouds. The grass of what I assumed was
the Meadows appeared a lush, verdant green. If not for my companion, I might have considered it a nice afternoon.

“What is the Kingdom like?” I asked, hoping to find some level of polite conversation.

“Supes,” he said, smiling.

“Excuse me?” I asked, at an obvious loss.

“Super, girl, super. Gotta keep up with ma lingo!” The car lurched forward as the light turned green and Bill gave me an apologetic smile. “Maybe when we’re done with this mission, I can help you furnish that place.”

“Does that mean you’re going to be my roommate?” I asked,
aghast at the very thought.

“Hellz no! Talk about putting the kibosh on my sex life,” he spat out with a shrug. “Besides, I got fart-apnea.”

“I have never met anyone like you,” I said simply, shaking my head as I felt the gravity of my words drop all the way down to my feet.

“I told you, girl, I’m an O-riginal.”

He turned on the radio, scanning through the stations with unconcealed amusement. At the sound of screeching and the heavy thunder of a bass guitar, he settled back into his seat.

“What’s this?” I asked with audible annoyance.

“Winger! Hello!”

He dropped his hands from the wheel to play air guitar. I sighed, wondering how I was going to survive the next few hours or days with Bill for company.

That which doesn't kill you only makes you stronger
, I reminded myself, swallowing down the sentiment.

I
only hoped I could survive Bill the second time around.

***

It turned out that the drive to Peterhead wasn’t such a long one at all—a mere two hours, although it felt more like six. Bill was, in a word … exhausting, but I preferred his company to being alone with my depressing thoughts about missing my mother and Miranda. Instead, I turned to the scenery outside my window which was slowly growing gray as dark storm clouds trespassed the skies, throwing a cloak of drab shadows over the green hills and the blue ocean beside us.

“
Looks like it's going to rain,” I said softly. “Is the weather always this finicky in Scotland?”

Bill frowned at me.
“Do I look like a friggin’ weatherman?”

“
Well I figured you were familiar with this place since you showed up on my doorstep?”

He shook his head.
“Nope. I got the call from AE that I had to get my ass to Edinburgs and so I went. I've never been here before.” He glanced out his window and sighed. “Why the hell you didn't choose a phat beach house in the Bahamas with nothin' but half naked chicks to stare at beats the shiznit outta me.”

I said nothing more as he pulled onto a small street called Gadie Braes that bo
rdered the cliffs of Peterhead and continued heading north. As far as I could tell, the area seemed pretty suburban with long blocks of houses surrounding vast stretches of green parks.

“
Merge slightly right onto Ware Road,” the polite English voice of the Audi's navigation rang out. Bill grumbled something unintelligible, but obeyed the instructions.

“
Your destination is ahead on the right,” the woman continued as both Bill and I leaned forward, seeing nothing more than a shack looming before us.

“
What the …?” Bill started.

“
You have reached your destination,” the navigation finished before triumphantly turning itself off.

“
Um, is this right?” I asked, glancing between Bill and the one-room shack that looked more like an outhouse than the residence of a blacksmith.

Bill shrugged and turned the car off, opening his door as a cold ocean wind whipped around him and chilled me. I shivered in my short-shorts and tube top, wishing the previous owner of my body resided in a cold climate at the time of her departure.

I watched Bill as he hopped down from the driver's seat and took a few paces forward. He turned around in a three-sixty and eyed his new environment with confusion, scratching his head in apparent wonder.

“
It's gotta be right,” he said. He started forward as I unbuckled myself and jumped down, shivering in the cold, Scottish wind. Freezing in my shorts and tube top, I decided to make a quick detour to the trunk of the car to investigate the bag Jason had given Bill. I opened the trunk and sorted through the bag, tossing aside thong underwear, lacy bras and a nightie that looked more like a negligee. There were two skimpy day dresses, more obscene short-shorts and blouses that were so small, they looked like they'd fit a cat. My fingers caught onto a pair of black leather pants, and pulling them out, I felt my jaw drop. Then I realized they were the only pants in the bag and, as such, I'd have to wear them or freeze.

“
This is not funny, Jason Streethorn,” I muttered as I stepped into the pants and worked them up my stork legs. They were skintight and barely fit. I zipped them up and buttoned them before diving into the bag again, this time looking for something that resembled a sweater. A second later, I found a red, long-sleeved cotton shirt that was just as tight as the pants. But it was warmer than the singlet I was currently wearing, so I wasn't going to complain.

“
What the hell are you doing?” Bill railed out from beside the shack.

I threw the top over my head, pulled it down and
noticing a pair of ankle-high, black boots, grabbed them before slamming the trunk closed. I walked back toward Bill, watching his eyes widen as he took in the leather pants and boots. “You look like that chick from that movie,” then he pursed his lips together as he attempted to remember said movie. “You know the one,” he continued and cleared his throat before he started singing “‘we go together like ramming dingy dongs, bang bang bangy cha bangy cock!”

“
Grease
,” I finished for him, shaking my head as my thoughts returned to my current wardrobe. “As soon as we’re done here, we need to go shopping.”

Bill didn
’t say anything, but started for the wooden door of the shack, so I followed him. The door was warped, discolored and generally had the look of something weathered and old, matching the rest of the lean-to. Bill shrugged and knocked on the door. No one answered, so he knocked again. When it seemed no one was home, I turned and started for the Audi again, eager to find the nearest department store. Then I heard the sound of the door opening. Turning back toward Bill, I watched him peer into the house before walking inside.

“
Looks like no one's home,” he called out.             

I hurried up the walkway behind him, reaching the front door of the shack. I continued forward, intending to talk him out of breaking and entering. But as soon as I stepped over the threshold, I was suddenly blinded by a huge flare of light.

“... and when he had moved on, I entered along the deep and savage road.”

—
   
Dante’s
Inferno

FOUR

I gasped and opened my eyes, blinking a few times to clear my vision because something very strange had happened. The last thing I could remember was setting foot into the decrepit shack at the end of the road, and then being blinded by a bright light. And now? I gulped as I tried to make sense of what lay before me, rubbing my eyes in a vain attempt to clear what could only be a trick of my vision. Why? Because I now found myself in the midst of a forest. I glanced up at the impossibly tall pine trees, watching as the sun gleamed through the threadbare coverage of the needles. Snow covered the trees, weighing down the heavy boughs, and dotting the banks of grass and ferns below them. The grass and ferns were punctuated by the brown of dirt and rocks. A gentle wind shook the needles, dropping them onto my face as I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself to keep warm.

“
Bill?” I asked, my voice reflecting the awe and fear in my gut. “What just happened?”

Bill was standing maybe two feet in front of me and
wore the same expression of astonishment. Somehow the fact that he, a supernatural being, seemed just as dazed as I was didn't bode well for our situation.

“
Where are we?” I continued, glancing around again.

Bill didn't say anything, but scratched his head, looking back at me with a dumbfounded stare. Then, as if something just dawned on him, he lifted his arm and
studied his monitor. He even flicked it a few times, but when it apparently didn't do whatever it was supposed to, he simply dropped his arm and frowned, raising his eyebrows in question.

“
Looks like I’m not drunk or high,” he said plainly with a shrug. “
One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small
,” he semi-sang.

I didn
’t say anything since I didn’t really get his gist. Instead, I watched as he walked head first into a huge spiderweb. He twirled around twice, like a hefty, uncoordinated ballerina. Then he clawed at his face as he tried to free himself from the gossamer strands.

“Damn spiders,” he muttered, wiping the sticky remnants of the web on his pants and continuing forward. Not wanting to be left alone in Narnia, I followed.

How does this make any sense?
I asked myself, shaking my head as I tried to piece together the puzzle.
You stepped into that house and then suddenly you’re out here? In the wilderness? Maybe it was some sort of portal?

My thoughts were interrupte
d by the sound of Bill clearing his throat. Actually he sounded more like someone attempting to start an old engine in the dead of winter. “Huhhh! Hreeeph! Hoogannitt!” he grunted, slamming his fist into his chest as if to help clear whatever needed clearing. “Think I swallowed that spider,” he grumbled before leaning over and hawking up something foul in a nearby bush. Then he started clearing his throat again, a sound that was beginning to make my stomach queasy.

“So, what? We just keep walking?”
I asked, wanting to concentrate on other, more important topics—such as what in the heck our plan was. I didn’t think exploring this weird place was such a good idea. Instead, I was of the vote that we retrace our steps and try to find the cabin again so we could get the heck out of Dodge.

“You gotta better idea, Slick?
” he grumbled and then paused. “Whhheeeck!” he finished, spitting up another mouthful.

I frowned, thinking I wanted nothing more t
han to turn around and go back rather than continue traipsing through some random forest, the location of which was still a complete question. “Aren’t you in the least bit apprehensive as to where we’re going? Or how we got here?”

“
Pah!” Bill said, waving away my anxiety with his arm. Then he fished inside his mouth with his squat index finger and wiped away the debris on his pants. “It’s no hair off my balls,” he continued with a shrug. “The nav led us here, and I’ve never heard of an AE nav unit being wrong; so as far as I can figure, we must be where we’re ’sposed to be.”

“
But …” I started.

“
Hey,” he said, turning around to face me. He tucked his Oompa-Loompa-like arms across his wide chest. “If you wanna give yourself
anxiarrhea
, be my guest.
” He grunted something unintelligible while rubbing his belly. “Hopefully, Sherwood Forest’s got some grub ’cause I am hungry like the wolf.” Then he started humming “Rio” by Duran Duran but somehow I couldn’t find it within me to correct him.

Instead,
I took a deep breath and tried to calm my beating heart.
Fear has its use, but cowardice has none
, I repeated Gandhi’s words in my head and acquired a new feeling of determination. I hastened my steps and caught up with Bill. A wind shook through the pines and a clump of snow fell onto my shoulder.

“You got snow-shitted on,” Bill said with a hefty laugh, sweeping the wet flakes away with his short, chubby fingers. Then he simply went back to forging a path through the wilderness, taking us God only knew where. And not feeling brave enough to go it alone, I had no choice
but to follow him.

The snow crunched underfoot as we trekked deeper into the forest. The scurry of woodland creatures rustled from the snowy ferns and bushes below the massive pines. The canopy of branches kept the forest in darkness, dappling the sunlight as it shone through in multiple, shimmering pockets.

Bill suddenly stopped walking mid-stride, and I nearly plowed right into him. He remained frozen and I wasn’t sure if it was because he thought he heard something which gave him cause for pause, or if he were just setting the stage for a massive fart.

I figured it was most likely the latter.

“What?” I whispered.

“
I got this funny feeling that ...” Then he cocked his head to the side and sighed only to shake his head and smile reassuringly.” Nah, the feeling’s gone ... I think it’s all good.” Then he slid his hand into his pocket and produced a small, green plastic box. He opened it as I glanced over his shoulder. Multicolored pills of various sizes and shapes—maybe twenty of them, lay inside. He fished out two oblong, yellow ones. Realizing what they were, a fire of rage began to ignite inside me accordingly.

“
Drugs?” I snapped, immediately glancing at his monitor as I wondered if it would go off at the mere proximity of something illegal, or if Bill would have to swallow the pills first. “Your dependencies on alcohol and drugs are what got me killed in the first place!” I railed at him, my hands on my hips. “How dare you even think to start using again in front of me!”

“
First of all, Nurse Ratched, these aren’t drugs,” Bill said curtly, enunciating each word, in a tone dripping with irritation. “So before you go run and tell that to Skeletor and make yourself look like an arch douche, pay attention.” Then he handed one of the pills to me.

“
What is it?” I asked, frowning. I made no attempt to accept it. “And what the heck is an arch douche?”

“
Are you incapable of saying “hell,’” he spat back at me.

“
I don’t see the point,” I started but he interrupted me.

“
I refuse to hang out with you if you say ‘what the heck’ one more time. That’s like nerd talk and then some.” I frowned as he continued. “Come on, say it, h-e-l-l...”

I took a deep breath but gave in, not finding the wherewithal to argue with him about something so completely idiotic.
“What the hell is an arch douche?”

He smiled.
“That’s better, reverse cowgirl,” he said and smiled even wider. “An arch douche is someone high up the corporate ladder who’s also a total and complete douche bag. Case in point? Skeletor. He’s like the arch douche of arch douches.”

I just shook my head.

“It’s a good one if you want to borrow it sometime,” Bill added.

“
Thanks for that,” I grumbled. “So were you going to get back to the point about what the heck, er hell, these pills are anyway?”

“
These little guys are gonna help us see what the hell is out there,” he barked back. “Now stop being an ask-hole and take the damn thing!”

I opened my palm with a frown, not appreciating the name calling. Bill dropped the pill into my palm as I inspected it with my index finger. I glanced up at him and sighed, still wondering if I should trust him or not.

“It's AE provided,” he said, his eyebrow cocked. Then he tossed the pill into his mouth and made an exaggerated effort of swallowing it. “Bon appétit,” he grinned.

I stared down at
the nondescript pill in my hand, still reluctant to do anything more than that. I mean, Bill had a history of problems with illegal narcotics, so why wouldn’t I expect him to pull a fast one over on me? And, furthermore, having never taken any illegal substances in my life, I wasn’t about to start now.

“What do you want, a written invitation?
” Bill asked, waving his little starfish hand as if to say, “Get on with it.” With a sigh, I brought the pill to my mouth, plopped it on my tongue, and swallowed it. Then I just waited, anxious for the pill to do its stuff, but after a few seconds, I couldn’t say I felt any different. I glanced at Bill, wondering why nothing seemed to be happening.

“Nothing's different?” I whispered, without realizing why I was whispering. "I don
’t think mine worked.”

He frowned. “Look around.”

So I did—first I glanced to my left and then to my right. The pine trees looked the same as they had a few minutes ago, and as far as I could tell, the snow on the ground hadn’t really changed—except, perhaps it had melted just a bit more. I gazed at the trunks of the trees, my eyes moving upward to each great expanse of branches. A flurry of snow sailed through the sky and landed on my cheek. It felt like regular snow—just as cold.

“Maybe you gave me the wrong pill,” I said, bringing my attention back to the ground. But the words froze on my tongue. Bright white lights suddenly appeared between the trees directly in front of me. The lights strobed and flittered, pausing for a few seconds, before disappearing right before my eyes.
“Oh my gosh,” I started, my jaw dropping.

“Spirits,” Bill said
in explanation.

I jerked my head toward him and gasped. Bill was completely bathed in white light. His skin was glowing like an ember. And it wasn’t a light from without—as in shining a beam on him. This luminosity emanated from Bill; it glowed from somewhere deep within him, becoming so bright, I had to avert my eyes
, eventually covering them with my hand.

“
You’re glowing,” I said in awe.

“
Control your girl wood,” he said and shrugged. “I told you, I’m an angel. You’re just seeing me in my natural state.”

“
Your natural state is blinding,” I grumbled, finding it impossible to look directly at him.

“
Yeah, I call it my bling. I can turn it down.” Within a second, he no longer burned like the sun, but more like an eager nightlight.

“
That’s better.” I dropped my hand and unshielded my eyes.

“
Shit,” he said and frowned, glancing around himself. “I just got that funny feelin’ again.”

“
That what?” My heart lurched into my throat because his tone made it sound like it wasn’t a
good
funny feeling.

“That something
’s not right,” he said very slowly, turning to examine his surroundings as if whatever wasn’t quite right was about to pop out of the shrubbery and ambush us.

I glanced around, noticing nothing beyond the tall pines that loomed
as far as the eye could see over the powdery shrubs. But one thing did strike me. I couldn’t hear the sounds of birds any longer. In fact, the entire forest had gone utterly, eerily quiet.

“
It’s too quiet,” I whispered.

“
Yep, no bueno.”

He turned away and again, surveyed his surroundings. “Can
’t say that I see anything out of the ordinary, but you ain’t sposed to ignore them bad feelings, ya know?”